So it’s 4th of July weekend in the US of A, right? July 4th equals freedom, independence…pretty much everything that doesn’t make us  commies. If we were lucky, our parents took this to heart and raised us to be who we wanted to be, do what we wanted to do, go where we wanted to go…and like what we wanted to like. I’m a hockey-loving city girl from two rodeo-loving, country-preferring parents. These things happen, it’s very AMERICAN.   

Towards the end elementary school, however, my obsessions were all things New Kids on the Block and Beverly Hills, 90210. I loved me some Jonathan Knight (foreshadowing of my love for the gays apparently) and Jason Priestly. I remember getting made fun of, poked at…but I don’t EVER remember any of my friends or classmates thinking less of me for choosing such objects of affection. Never did a Jordan Knight or Melrose Place fan laugh in my face or get an attitude with me because they thought their favorites were so superior to mine. We managed to peacefully coexist in fandom harmony. When the hockey fever took hold in middle school and turned into a terminal illness in high school, you know I got a fair amount of hell living in God’s own football country. But absolutely NEVER did anyone look down upon me for it. In fact, I was such an anomaly at the time I think they were mostly in aw.  

Then came the internet.

And more recently, a debate over VAMPIRES that only the Palestinian-Israeli conflict could dare rival. Not religion, not politics, not abortion or equal rights…vampires. Sparkly ones vs. Southern ones. In other words, Twilight vs. True Blood.

Here’s the deal, I dig both. But in full disclosure, I’m a Twi-hard. I’m actually an upper echelon spoiled brat of a Twi-hard. I’ve been to Comic-Con, had VIP tickets to screenings with the entire cast in attendance and last week, I went to the Eclipse premiere in Los Angeles. I’m actually partially responsible for Cathalee’s adoration of Twilight. I like to spread the love.  It all goes back to just over a year ago. If you’ve read my other posts on here you know I went through heartache hell and back. I spent a month on my couch eating nothing but Chinese food and chocolate-chip cookies. One fateful night that month, I decided to give in and see what this Twilight Shit (that’s what I called it at the time…what do you mean it’s a love story about vampires?!) and watch the first movie On Demand. Given my penchant for obsession, I knew I was in trouble 15 minutes in. Having said that, Twilight served as a beautiful distraction and pulled my heart out of its funk. I got off the couch, out of the house and now have one of the best friends I’ve ever had because of it. Not to mention a less than healthy love for Taylor Lautner. Hey, he likes the same kind of cereal as I do and is a huge football fan. It was inevitble!

Despite what Twilight did for me, the fun I’ve had and the great memories, I’ve never felt so judged in my ENTIRE life. Except, I don’t know, during my DIVORCE. And really, folks, it’s ridiculous. The holier than thou attitudes on both sides of the war are perpostuous. People shouldn’t take themselves so seriously over vampire fiction. It’s apples and oranges comparing a poorly-written series of young adult novels made into multi-million dollar movies to a series of books geared towards an older audience made into a hardcore, VERY adult HBO series. But that’s not even my point, it’s the ATTITUDE problem. If you like True Blood and not Twilight, here’s a newsflash…it doesn’t make you a better person. And if you like Twilight, chances are you shouldn’t be watching True Blood. Do your parents know you are?! The anti-Twilight propoganda at Comic-Con last year was appaling. Hey you there, with the Buffy killed Edward shirt standing in like to get your anime comics autographed, yeah you, pot, have you met my friend kettle?

I could go on and on about this. I could tell you that I’m not retarded and know the Twilight books are crap, but they were entertaining crap that got me through a rough patch. I could tell you that despite the fact I love True Blood, Sookie actually annoys the hell bells out of me, which is why I can’t read the books. I could also tell you I’ve attempted, on numerous occasions, to watch Buffy and it does nothing for me. But I think nothing less of anyone who stands opposed to me in any of this. It’s like 1980s die-hard opposed Trekkies and Star Wars geeks were fueled up on estrogen and let loose on social media.

We are who we are. We like what we want to like. It makes us individuals, adds to our character…it makes us American. There’s no right or wrong when it comes to favorite things. I love Twilight, I’m a Stars and Cowboys fan, I think cabernet and pinot noir are the best red wines and I own 12 pairs of Jessica Simpsons shoes. We all have the things we love and I love people for what they love. Except if you love the Eagles…I got NO love for you.

- Nikki

That’s been me since February 2008, if not longer…lost. Once you move 1200 miles away from the one place you’ve lived your entire life and a year later tell your husband “I’m not in love with you anymore, I don’t want to be married to you” your life turns upside down. Just because you’re the one doing the breaking up doesn’t mean you’re not broken up about it. I wasn’t just hurting him, I was also destroying and losing a handful of people who had been a part of my life for almost 8 years. Needless to say, it wasn’t an easy decision and contrary to his belief I never took it well.

So here I am over a year and a half later. You already know I’ve done plenty of dating since then. Lord knows I was completely uneducated about the process and did a piss poor job. Despite what my imagination told me at the time, I was in no condition to commit; therefore, I inevitably attracted the non-commitment type. THAT is why I’m on an indefinite mancation. Don’t be fooled, this is about the sixth time I’ve put myself on a mancation. I plan on sticking to it although I’ve already encountered a tiny challenge. But that is totes beside the point, doesn’t officially count (yet?) and I have no idea why I’m even bringing it up. Oy vey.

I turn 30 in six months and three days. Might I point out Cathalee turns 30 in 25 days? She may not approve this post now that I’ve said that. But I will argue that it’s actually a good thing. Because dammit if our 20s haven’t sucked hairy balls at times. I’m looking forward to the day I become 30, flirty and fabulous. Don’t think I’m not already planning my dirty 30 birthday party. I’ve had quite a few people tell me, women especially, that their 30s have been the best years of their lives. And I can see why. You have a good sense of who the hell you are by 30. You know what you want. If you’re lucky, you might even know what you want to be when you grow up (still working on that one, I am). And most of all, it’s the point at which older folks stop looking at you like you just got out of diapers and take you a wee bit more seriously.

I’ve challenged myself to take the next six months and three days to work on being the most amazing I’ve ever been. I’ve done a pretty damn good job of getting a jump start on things the last week or so. My pops called the other day and as soon as I’d said about four words he was all “oh my gosh, Nikki is back.” I even went back to blonde this weekend and it feels AMAZING. (I was blonde for 28 years and only went brunette the last year and a half). As I posted on my Twitter, the Carrie Bradshaw heartbreak brunette is gone. I’m working on my fitness, working on being even more gorgemous than I already am. I actually went out last Friday. Like to a club, all fancied up, drank (a lot!), danced (a lot!) and stayed up till after 3 a.m. Shenanigans! I’m also working on speaking up at work and in life, turns out I can’t make everyone happy…so f*ck ‘em, I’ll make myself damn happy. And the cherry on top is not actively seeking to date. I’m not opposed to an opportunity, a girl should always keep her options open,  I’m just not looking for it. I’m keeping my fun outside of the bedroom for as long as I can.

Basically, it’s all about me right now. I’m learning to be a little bit selfish. And for serious, it’s about time a guy chases me for once. Don’t chase me with flowers and candy, however, just watch football and drink with me. And a little dirty texting never hurt anyone. Just saying.

I dare anyone to argue against the blatant fact the internet and social networking have officially changed our entire lives. Whether for the better or worse is for you to decide. I have no doubt that the Devil himself created Facebook. I’m ashamed to admit how many times a comment, a picture or relationship status change have made me lose my mind. We have access to way too much information about one another. Especially about object of our affection, those we are dating or have dated and the dreaded exes. However, how much information is shared or published is solely up to the individual.

Something that I know has plagued Cathalee and definitely me of late is whether or not we’ve shared too much about our recent relationships and heartaches. She built this blog as a means of dealing with emotional pain and I can honestly say it did her a lot of good (I hope I pitched in my fair share as well!) As for me, I’ve no clue. I know that I’ve worried a lot about what He thinks. There are quite a few that can be inserted as “he”. But I really have no way of knowing if any of them have actually read or give a shit about what I write. However, I realize as I write this that A) I don’t really give a hoot and B) if I can in anyway help out a friend or a fellow lady by publicly talking about my experiences, then I am going to do it. Six and a half years of French taught me the best way to learn is to teach.

I’ve done my best not to play a martyr or a woman scorned and talk trash about those that have done me wrong. Each of them mean something to me and stand for a lesson learned. My goal has not been to shit talk them, but to sort out my feelings and figure out how each situation affected me. My way of saying, hey it happens to all of us. We are women, we can get through this, hear us roar.

I am very honored that Cathalee asked me to guest blog on her site. I currently run Crazy Lil Sports Lady, but am more than happy to talk about all things girly here. The good and the bad.

For those of you who don’t know, Cathalee and I have been friends for almost 16 years. I can honestly say, without a doubt, no one knows me better than she does. A couple of weeks ago I made a startling discovery that Cathalee and I have mirrored each other’s lives for the majority of our 16 years as friends.  Part 1: Haley, Cathalee and I all went to middle school together, high school together, worked at UA at the same time and actually graduated from UNT on the exact same day.  Part 2: Cathalee and I barely dated in high school but had ridiculous crushes GALORE. In college, we both had our first real relationships around the same time, after which we both got into our first long-term relationships. Cathalee’s ended in 2007; as for mine, we got married in 2004; the relationship more or less ended in 2007 as well, but our divorce wasn’t filed until 2008. Post each of these relationships, Cathalee and I both got involved with guys we fell harder for than ever before. Guys we would’ve done ANYTHING for. And unfortunately, we were both disposed of thanks to their own personal demons, insecurities and shortcomings. We were both told we deserved better, someone who could give us what we needed, yet we already knew what we wanted…and still want. Now the two  of us struggle every day to get through the heartbreak. What Cathalee has gone through for over a year now, I’ve only been going through for a month and a half. However, whether two years or 20, I don’t think this kind of pain ever gets easier. The wounds can heal, but the scars will always be there staring us in the face.

So over the last week, I’ve really started examining the type of guy I tend to attract. Cause OBVIOUSLY it ain’t right! I made a rule after my husband and I separated: “no more boys in their 20s.” Funny thing about rules, you have to follow them to do yourself any good. And I didn’t. The guys I’ve been involved with, to varying degrees, since then are currently 28, 26, 28 and 29. And seriously, that has been punishment enough for breaking my own rule. So anyway, the other day I was watching the season premiere of Entourage and Sloan said something to E that struck me like a damn bolt of lightning. As she was showing E the house she thinks he should rent so he can FINALLY live on his own, he mentioned for the upteenth time he wants to get back with her…and her response?

“You’re not going to be in a relationship so long as you live in a frat house.”

That was a slap to my face, because that ONE LINE  sums up a huge part of what is wrong with the guys I have dated. Well it’s not so much what is wrong with them, but why my search for a man is going wrong. So, please don’t misunderstand me, I am not dissing on these dudes.  To each his own when it comes to the way you want to live your life. If they want to live and play with their boys until they’re 35, more power to them. But I am not getting involved with that anymore, I value what self-respect I have left. Out of the 20-something year-old boys I mentioned above, only one of them lives alone…and trust me, it doesn’t count. My close girlfriends and I, all around the exact same age as them, ALL live alone. Including Haley who lives in New York City and me who lives in Los Angeles. The first and second largest cities in the country. My girlfriend Allyn in Dallas even owns her own house. And my girlfriend Nazy here in LA did at one time. The majority of the guys I know who live on their own are GAY. As females, I know we mature faster, but my God…do the straight guys EVER catch up to us? Therefore, Sloan’s line rings all sorts of true. I don’t think they are fully capable of being in a healthy, committed, long-term stable relationship until they leave mommy’s house, then leave the frat house and can manage life alone. And really, we need to quit trying to be in healthy, committed, long-term stable relationships with them until they do. Because, from what I hear, we deserve better.